Crossdresser
by macrauchenia
Summary: "You're wearing…a skirt?" Annie ventured again. She had always thought herself a fairly shock-proof soldier, only shaken by the strangest or most grotesque of things. However, the periodical oddity still managed to catch her off guard. Such as the sight of Armin Arlert in a skirt. Mikasa's skirt, no less. [AruAni fluff]


**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Not a thing.  
**Author's Note: **I'm really sorry for how absent I've been these past couple of months. Instead of being _more _productive in the summer, I've been _less _productive. Well, hopefully this fun AruAni fluff will make up for it. I've been sitting on this idea for a while, even though I have no idea where it came from.

* * *

"What are you doing in Mikasa's stuff?"

The huddled form jumped and gave a small squeak. Pale limbs flailed as the culprit was caught by surprise and was buried under an avalanche of Sasha's coveted treasures, whose bunk was above them. Annie's lips tightened into a faintly concerned pucker. She had simply wanted to escape the others in her cabin on the recruits' day off and instead found a slight blonde figure pilfering through their stuff. Of all of her cabin mates, she had suspected Christa the one least likely to pry. And now there was stuff everywhere.

Annie was not pleased. Especially if the smaller blonde had gone through Annie's secretive possessions. The girl flicked her gaze towards her orderly bunk and was relieved to note that it was untouched. There were obvious signs of search in Mikasa's stuff, but it seemed to be an isolated event.

"What are you doing, Chris—_Ar…_min_…?"_

Annie froze and blinked at the blond head that peaked out of the pile of belongings. She had expected Christa's soft smile to appear and was shocked to see Armin's wide eyes staring at her. Terrified. Guilty.

There was a long silence as the two teens looked at each other, neither moving. Annie was rooted to the spot by astonishment. Armin seemed too flustered to move. Plus he was buried under Sasha's stuff.

"Armin," Annie repeated slowly, as if to ensure her confused eyes that they were indeed seeing what they were seeing.

"Annie," the blond boy murmured, mashing his lips together and pulling himself out of pile of clothes and other possessions. He brushed nervously at the front of his outfit, unconsciously drawing more attention to his ensemble of choice.

"You're wearing…a skirt?" Annie ventured again. She had always thought herself a fairly shock-proof soldier, only shaken by the strangest or most grotesque of things. However, the periodical oddity still managed to catch her off guard.

Such as the sight of Armin Arlert in a skirt. Mikasa's skirt, no less.

Finally starting to find the humor in the situation, Annie felt her eyebrow dart upwards. "Does Mikasa know you're wearing her skirt?"

Armin glanced down. His bottom lip was nearly invisible, covered entirely by his upper teeth clenching nervously down.

"Yeah…?" he echoed. It was an obvious lie.

"Why?"

The boy was silent for a moment, and Annie could see the desperation in his eyes as he tried to come up with some excuse. As amusing as it would undoubtedly be, stammered in his high-pitched squeak, Annie didn't have time to waste. She wanted Armin out so she could enjoy her solitude.

"Don't even bother trying to lie."

The thin boy's silken clad shoulders sunk in defeat. "Alright," he hesitated slightly before beginning his explanation.

"Eren wanted to spy on Jean," the boy rushed out, mumbling so quickly and softly that the words started to blur. "Especially because Jean kept bragging about something, uh… he wanted to do with another girl." For the first time, surprisingly, the boy blushed. He was more flustered when speaking about intimate encounters than explaining his odd choice of clothing. "Anyway, Eren thought he might have been talking about Mikasa, so he wanted to follow Jean to make sure. And we couldn't watch Jean looking like ourselves, see we both decided to wear costumes. I thought it would be a good idea to dress up like a girl. Mikasa always said I could borrow her stuff, so I went to get a skirt," he finished lamely.

Annie nodded slowly. She had passed Eren earlier that day dressed in odd clothing. Eren with mud in his hair and on his clothes. But still recognizably Eren.

"So, please don't tell anyone—_please_," Armin pleaded, carefully skirting around Sasha's pile of possessions. Annie watched in silence as the boy neatly packed it all away and retreated towards the door. However, along the way, the boy stumbled when he stepped on the skirt's dragging hem.

"That skirt is too long for you." The amused words were out of Annie's mouth before she could stop herself. "You need something shorter."

Armin turned back towards the girl, looking thoroughly miserable. "I didn't want to take anyone else's stuff," he mumbled. "It isn't right to pry though other people's stuff. It was all I could find."

"I'll…help you," Annie responded flatly. She tried to clamp her teeth down on her traitorous tongue to keep it from speaking, but she still continued speaking. "Mina's clothes should fit you more, since you two are closer in height."

_What are you doing? You want him to leave so you can be alone._

"Thank you, Annie," Armin echoed slowly, unsure and wary of why the blonde was suddenly agreeing to help him. "I don't want to violate her privacy though."

Annie turned towards Mina's bunk, avoiding Armin's gaze. "Mina told me I could borrow any of her dresses anytime I wanted to." This wasn't actually a lie. The dark haired girl had indeed offered to allow Annie free choice on any of her nicer formalwear. The blonde had merely scoffed in amusement at the idea of her wearing anything other than her white hoodie.

Armin smiled faintly at the suggestion. "That would be fantastic."

Annie nodded once and began to sort through Mina's clothes, searching for an appropriate outfit. She came across an orange frock, surveyed the dress, glanced at Armin with a critical stare, and continued shifting through the clothes. Armin observed the entire scene with a bemused smile.

"Why did you agree to help me?"

"To get you out of here faster," Annie responded without looking in his direction. After a few more failed options, Annie finally pulled out a powder blue ensemble with a large bow around the back. Armin stared wide-eyed at the extremely feminine dress, starting to regret his decision to accept the girl's help.

"Here. Put it on." Annie tossed the dress to the boy and crossed her arms.

The boy cleared his throat pointedly.

Annie lifted an eyebrow. Equally pointedly.

"Yes?"

"Um, could I have some privacy, please…?"

Annie rolled her eyes and turned away. _He's more modest than most girls here,_ she mused, spying a male sock underneath one of her cabin mate's bunks.

The blonde heard the sound of Armin pulling the zipper and the faint whoosh as the skirt dropped to a pile by his feet. Out of scientific curiosity, Annie tilted her head to observe the nearly undressed boy out of the corner of his eye. His body was sinewy and pale—nowhere near as dazzling as the older recruits Mina liked to gossip about, but it was still a nice surprise. As the boy pulled the frilly garment over his head, some flailing body part got caught in the bow and he began to struggle, half in and half out of the dress. One arm in and arm out.

Annie suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. For such a bright student, Armin was pathetically hopeless in certain aspects. She reached over and helped pull the dress over his head with a curt yank, nearly knocking the boy over.

"Thanks, Annie," he murmured, smiling bashfully at her unimpressed expression.

The blonde took a step back to survey the transformed boy in front of her.

Armin caught the unsatisfied purse of her lips and frowned as well. "What's wrong?"

Annie gestured towards the boy's thighs. "You're wearing pants underneath." She declined to mention that she had noticed them earlier while he was undressing.

"Ye-es," the boy responded slowly.

"They show through the dress." Armin glanced down at the frill around his mid-section and smoothed down a ribbon.

"Is it bad…? I can't tell."

Annie tilted her head and seemed to think for another moment. "Are you wearing anything under them?"

"Am I wearing anythi—_oooh…_" The boy's confused face took on a rich crimson that contrasted sharply with the blue garment. "Uh, yeah…" he answered, taking the hint before Annie had to say the words out loud. Quickly he reached under the dress and slid the darker pants off of his legs. He kicked the fabric to the side and stared at them wistfully.

"I was wearing them just in case I had to go up any stairs," he admitted. "Also, I heard Sasha say she wore shorts under her skirts to keep from hurting her thighs," the blond shrugged. "Plus it keeps out the drafts."

Annie started blankly at him. Armin nodded weakly again before stepping backwards.

"How do I look now? Do I look like a different person?"

"You look like Armin," the boy scowled, "in a dress," Annie finished flatly. Although the dress was markedly more feminine that Mikasa's skirt, Armin still looked as Armin-y as Eren had looked like Eren.

Armin slumped his shoulders and fingered the fraying ribbon around his waist. "I might as well just give up then," he sighed in defeat. "I'll never look like a girl."

Annie knew she should have nodded and agreed with the boy. It could have gotten him out of the room quickly and she could return to her peace and quiet. But instead the girl surveyed the dress-clad boy and pursed her lips calculatingly.

"Come here," she gestured towards Mina's bed. Armin sat down without questioning, tilting his head curiously.

"Face that way," she ordered, gesturing towards the door. Still a bit confused, Armin shuffled under the dress so that his back was facing Annie.

Suddenly Annie's thin fingers were laced in his hair. Armin jumped at the sudden contact and Annie pulled away, equally startled.

"Sorry," Armin murmured, grateful for the fact that Annie couldn't see his burning face. He didn't mean to jump when she touched his hair—it was just so surprising that _Annie Leonhardt_ of all people had her fingers tangled in his blond locks. Apart from the time when she punched him during sparring practice, this was the only other time she had ever touched him directly.

Annie didn't reply, but she put her hesitant fingers back in Armin's hair, ruffling the blond strands before tugging on them gently.

Armin decided that this was much better than being punched.

The gentle tugs became gradually harder, but not painful. It took the blond a moment to realize the girl was trying to braid his hair.

"You're braiding my hair!" he sputtered, ever the brilliant observer.

"Yes," the girl replied patiently.

"How did you learn? I never learned how to,"

"I watched the others."

"Oh."

Again, Annie fell silent. The only indication of her presence was the faint tug along his scalp.

"Annie?"

Silence.

Armin frowned despite himself. "Annie, why are you doing this? I mean, helping me."

Annie's hands froze in Armin's hair and she pulled back. Armin could feel the tension release as one of his tiny braids unraveled and fell free without her grip to hold it in place. For a moment, Armin was afraid Annie would either force him to leave or would come up with a lie to keep him away.

For a long while, neither one spoke. Then Armin heard Annie sigh behind him. The girl's gusty breath breezed across the thin hairs on the back of his neck, causing them to fluff then bristle.

The confession was slow and vague.

"When I was younger," Annie started softly. Armin straightened up at full attention. Very rarely would the girl ever talk about her past. In fact, Armin couldn't recall a time when the girl had shared about her life before the training camp.

"When I was younger, the girls from my village would always dress up and pretend to be long lost princesses. I…I always had other work to do. I couldn't play with them."

Armin didn't say a word, afraid of breaking the fragile moment between the two of them. He knew what it was like to have a childhood stolen away from him or to see a normal life slip through his fingers. This was probably the first time Annie had ever been able to do something she had yearned for as a child.

After another pause, Annie wrapped her fingers back in Armin's hair and began to braid the soft strands.

"If you tell anyone that I helped you," one of the fists holding Armin's fine hair tugged harder than necessary, "I'll tell them about this," she murmured faintly.

Despite the obvious threat, Armin laughed. He could feel the girl's hesitant smile grow through the lightening of her grip in his hair.

Again they sat in a comfortable silence until Annie pulled her fingers from Armin's now finished hair.

"Are you done?" the boy asked, slightly disappointed. After a while, the girl's calm prodding and tugging was rather relaxing against his scalp. He could have easily fallen asleep if the dress wasn't so scratchy.

"Yes." Annie was thoughtful for a moment before speaking again. "But, I could put flowers in it…" she offered.

"That _would_ make me look less like Armin," the boy agreed, eager to come up with any excuse to possible have the girl continue to work on his head. If Annie picked up on his blatant suggestion, she didn't say a word. Instead she quickly slipped out of the cabin and returned moments later with several flowers encased neatly in her gently curled fists.

Armin felt the hard bed sink under her weight as she sat down again. Soon her nimble fingers were back in his hair, weaving the lovely smelling blossoms in his soft braids.

It was a rather nice feeling.

When Annie was done, she pulled back her hands, inspected her handiwork, and ordered the boy to turn back around.

"Close your eyes," Annie commanded. After studying Annie's blank expression for a hint and finding nothing, Armin obediently closed his eyes.

There was silence as Annie observed the boy's delicate features before Armin heard a rustling. Peaking one eye open, Armin watched as Annie pulled out a pouch from Mina's supplies. From the container, Annie produced several vials of liquids and powders. Catching Armin's curious stare, Annie sighed.

"Makeup…?"

"Everyone wanted to dress up for the first holiday," Annie responded indifferently. She neither admitted to wearing makeup nor denounced its purpose.

"Mina wanted to put some on me too," she admitted, staring at the various vials in her lap. "I didn't let her, but I overheard her talking to Christa about what the things are supposed to do."

Bewildered, Armin stared at the various bottles and sticks as well. Growing up with only his elderly grandfather, he knew even less about that sort of thing. Mrs. Jaeger, the only adult female he had known, hardly wore makeup either—in fact, the only people who he saw wear the stuff regularly were either overzealous teenagers or prostitutes.

Annie reached towards something that was bright red and pulled off the cap with a grunt. "Red stuff is supposed to go on your cheeks. I don't know what it's called, but it's supposed to make you looked flushed."

"I wonder why people use it," Armin mused. Due to his weak physique he looked "flushed" on a regular basis, yet no one had ever stopped to compliment him on his rosy complexion.

Annie peered at the substance, shaped into a long tube. "It's supposed to be powdery, Christa said."

"Maybe it's a different kind of thing," Armin offered.

Glancing down at the tube, Annie smeared the substance across Armin's face, leaving behind a trail of vibrant red liquid along his cheek. The boy reached up and dabbed at the thick cosmetic and laughed.  
"I don't think that worked."

Annie's blank expression melted into a warmer half smile.

"No," she agreed, wiping at the red across Armin's cheek with a finger. Annie studied the goop before looking back to Armin's mouth. Hesitating slightly, the girl reached out and brushed the red substance across Armin's pale lips, coating them with a layer of crimson. Armin froze as the girl's lithe finger traced along his soft, slightly quivering lip. He suppressed the urge to clear his throat, knowing it would only make it more awkward.

Either oblivious to his reaction or masking her personal feelings, Annie studied the red tube. "I think that's the way it's supposed to work."

Armin swallowed his feelings from the girl's past action and smiled winningly around the lip coating. "If only Mina Carolina were here to help us out," Armin suppressed the urge to giggle at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. Here he was, getting a _makeover _from _Annie Leonhardt. _

"She would know what this does," Annie added, waving a tiny, black sticklike utensil coated in ebony goo. Armin's widened at both at the relaxed nature of the girl and her humor.

"Is it for my eyes? That's the only body part left."

"I think so. I think it's for your eyelashes. At least that's what Mina said. To make them darker."

"To make them darker," Armin echoed, baffled by the strange idea of beauty.

Annie raised the tool up as an offering but then dropped it and shook her head.

"I trust you," Armin answered despite the unsaid hesitation. "I know you won't poke my eye out."

Annie did not look convinced.

"Besides, an eye patch may be the perfect disguise to fool Jean."

A corner of Annie's lip flickered upwards, even though she tried to maintain her calm demeanor. Assuming the boy meant what he said, Annie lifted the goop covered tool back to Armin's eyelashes. The boy did not flinch even once as Annie dabbed them with the mysterious goo, even when she accidentally scrapped the skin along the bottom of his eye with the unforgiving apparatus. She simply wiped at it with a thin pinky and continued her careful work.

At the end, Armin opened his eyes and smiled reassuringly at Annie. "See? I bet it looks great."

Instead of accepting his warm praise, Annie rustled through the containers in her lap and pulled out something pink and powdery.

"This is probably the stuff Christa was talking about. The powder."

"Yeah," Armin responded warily as the girl opened the box. A cloud of scented dust puffed out of its compressed home in a heavy haze. Unable to stop himself, Armin sneezed.

Some of the powder exploded out of the contained, coating Annie's surprised face and her white hoodie with the pink powder.

"S-sorry," Armin stuttered, completely horrified.

Instead of reacting violently or shutting him out, the girl simply uttered a soft, delicate laugh, flashing a pink stained smile. Transfixed by the unexpected sound, Armin just stared at the girl.

Annie's break in composure was gone quickly after it started, but Armin felt partially awestruck by it. It had been one of the first times he had ever heard the girl sounding so _happy._ He thought back to her earlier admission, wondering how much of her joy had to do with finally living out a repressed desire.

And how much of it had to do with his presence.

Wary of another sneeze, Annie closed the lid back up and wisely decided to skip the pink powder. Armin agreed whole-heartedly that that was perhaps the best course of action.

After a few more adjustments and finding a suitable replacement pair of shoes for Armin's ratty brown boots, Annie finally deemed Armin public-worthy.

Instead of leaving, however, Armin hesitated before smiling in Annie's direction.

"Thank you, Annie."

Annie stared transfixed at the boy before her. She had only assembled his guise in disjointed pieces, one at a time. Now that she could see the whole before her, she never realized how _pretty_ of a girl Armin was. Annie blamed the redness creeping in her cheeks as jealousy, but she was still grateful for the red powder on her face to hide her deep blush.

Before Annie could say anything, the cabin door swung open with the loud chatter of Ymir, Christa, and Mina announced the girls' presence. They stopped at the sight of Armin, but were too shocked at the sight of such a well-dressed girl in their cabin with _Annie Leonhardt _to notice the person underneath the façade.

With a high, squeaky voice, only partially forced, Armin excused himself and disappeared out the door.

Eyeing the smeared makeup along Annie's arms and face, Ymir raised an eyebrow up, clearly amused. The eyebrow only darted higher at the strewn off clothes and the obvious mess.

"Well, well," she drawled, implicating a whole lot more than the two little words should hold.

"She's my cousin," Annie gritted. "Visiting."

Ymir shrugged and left with Christa, probably eager to find this girl and question her more thoroughly.

Mina observed the carnage surrounding Annie. She didn't even seem to be upset that most of it belonged to her. Or that it was scattered along the floor. And covered in a pink powder.

If the girl had recognized the dress, she didn't let on.

"Y'know, Annie…" Mina Carolina began slowly.

Annie glanced flatly in the direction of her best friend.

"Your cousin looks a little like Armin. They would be a really cute couple, don't you think?" Mina ventured with an undecipherable smile. Annie couldn't tell if it was goading or innocent. "Maybe you should introduce them."

"She's only visiting for today," Annie interrupted shortly, turning away. "I have to go wash off this stuff. Spilled all over me. Must've fallen out of the case somehow," the girl lied unconvincingly.

As she made her hasty retreat towards the door, Annie stumbled over Armin's discarded pants. In his rush to leave, he had neglected to take them with him.

Mina lifted a mischievous eyebrow. "I wonder who those belong to…"

* * *

**Thanks for reading!** I know the fluff isn't as riveting as the angst, but I thought you guys deserve a break. Some nasty stuff is heading your way.  
Also, I didn't mean to make so of those scenes sound so smutty. I guess that means I need to right some weak smut (weak, because I am pathetic at it) for these two then, huh?


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